n on strange ground would only keep me alive and in good
condition for her, because it would save me from the weariness which was
surely killing me.

I had been presented to the celebrated Countess Coronini by a nun, a
relative of M. Dandolo. That countess, who had been very handsome and was
very witty, having made up her mind to renounce the political intrigues
which had been the study of her whole life, had sought a retreat in the
Convent of St. Justine, in the hope of finding in that refuge the calm
which she wanted, and which her disgust of society had rendered necessary
to her. As she had enjoyed a very great reputation, she was still visited
at the convent by all the foreign ambassadors and by the first noblemen
of Venice; inside of the walls of her convent the countess was acquainted
with everything that happened in the city. She always received me very
kindly, and, treating me as a young man, she took pleasure in giving me,
every time I called on her, very agreeable lessons in morals. Being quite
certain to find out from her, with a little manoeuvering, something
concerning M---- M----, I decided on paying her a visit the day after I
had seen the beautiful nun.

The countess gave me her usual welcome, and, after the thousand nothings
which it is the custom to utter in society before anything worth saying
is spoken, I led the conversation up to the convents of Venice. We spoke
of the wit and influence of a nun called Celsi, who, although ugly, had
an immense credit everywhere and in everything. We mentioned afterwards
the young and lovely Sister Michali, who had taken the veil to prove to
her mother that she was superior to her in intelligence and wit. After
speaking of several other nuns who had the reputation of being addicted
to gallantry, I named M---- M----, remarking that most likely she deserved
that reputation likewise, but that she was an enigma. The countess
answered with a smile that she was not an enigma for everybody, although
she was necessarily so for most people.

"What is incomprehensible," she said, "is the caprice that she took
suddenly to become a nun, being handsome, rich, free, well-educated, full
of wit, and, to my knowledge, a Free-thinker. She took the veil without
any reason, physical or moral; it was a mere caprice."

"Do you believe her to be happy, madam?"

"Yes, unless she has repented her decision, or if she does not repent it
some day. But if ever she does, I think she will be